130
Orion.
[Book III.
Without thee, though cast off by thee. Then wherefore
Destroy? Revenge, the champion of self-love,
Can make his well-known sign. O, horrible!
Despair to all springs up from murdered love,
And smites revenge with idiotcy of grief,
Seeing itself. But wake, and look upon
My loss unutterable. What hast thou gained?
Nothing but anguish; and for this accomplished
His death, my loss, and the earth's loss beside
Of that much needed hand. I curse thee not—
Thou hast, indeed, cursed me—thou know'st it well."
Destroy? Revenge, the champion of self-love,
Can make his well-known sign. O, horrible!
Despair to all springs up from murdered love,
And smites revenge with idiotcy of grief,
Seeing itself. But wake, and look upon
My loss unutterable. What hast thou gained?
Nothing but anguish; and for this accomplished
His death, my loss, and the earth's loss beside
Of that much needed hand. I curse thee not—
Thou hast, indeed, cursed me—thou know'st it well."
With face bowed o'er her bosom, Artemis,
As in sad trance, remained. The night was gone;
The day had dawned, but she perceived it not;
Nor Eos knew that any light had passed
From her rent robes. But hope unconsciously
Grew up in her, and yet again she spake.
As in sad trance, remained. The night was gone;
The day had dawned, but she perceived it not;
Nor Eos knew that any light had passed
From her rent robes. But hope unconsciously
Grew up in her, and yet again she spake.
"Ah, me! alas! why came this great affliction,
Which, indeed, seems beyond all remedy,
Though scalding tears from our immortal eyes'
Make constant arcs in heaven. Beauty avails not
Where power is needed. Seek we, then, for power,
Which, indeed, seems beyond all remedy,
Though scalding tears from our immortal eyes'
Make constant arcs in heaven. Beauty avails not
Where power is needed. Seek we, then, for power,
